[Illustration: SIR WALTER SCOTT
From the painting by Sir Henry Raeburn]
What sort of a person was he; what did he look like--this Scottish
bard, novelist, historian, essayist, and landed baronet?
"There he goes," said Dr. Maginn, a contemporary of Scott's,
"sauntering about his grounds, with his Lowland bonnet in his hand,
dressed in his old green shooting-jacket, telling stories of every
stone and bush, and tree and stream in sight--tales of battles and
raids--or ghosts and fairies, as the case may be, of the days of yore."
"Sauntering" is hardly the word with which to describe Scott's gait.
"Limping" would be better, for he was lame from boyhood, and he
supported himself in walking with a staff so heavy that it looked like
a cudgel. Washington Irving visited Abbotsford in 1816, and described
Scott as "limping up the gravel walk, aiding himself by a stout
walking-stick, but moving rapidly and with vigor."
* * * * *
His lameness, was no serious handicap to Sir Walter. He was a man of
extraordinary strength, six feet tall, and of a large and powerful
frame, with great breadth across the chest. The muscles of his arms
were like iron. He was an exceptional and powerful wielder of an ax,
and could bring down a tree with the best of the younger men. He was
a master of the horse, and a bold rider. He climbed the hills till he
wearied all but his faithful dogs, and he was proficient in sport and
hunting. The latter, however, he did not like. "I was never at ease,"
he said, "when I had knocked down my bird and, going to pick him up,
he cast back his dying eye with a look of reproach. I am not ashamed
to say that no practice ever reconciled me fully to the cruelty of the
affair."
* * * * *
The conversation of Scott was frank, hearty, picturesque, and dramatic.
He had a great sense of humor, and a rare gift for story telling.
He was an accomplished mimic, and he lighted up his narratives and
anecdotes with appropriate dialect and graphic description. And, as
a near friend once observed, "The chief charm of his conversation, he
being a man of such eminence, was its perfect simplicity and the entire
absence of vanity and love of display."
* * * * *
He was a good listener, too--but he did not enjoy listening to classic
music. He allowed that he "had a reasonable good ear for a jig," but
confessed that "sonatas gave him the spleen." But he would rouse up
at the sound of "The Blue Bells of Scotland" or "Bonnie Dundee," and
his eye would flash an enthusiastic response to any song or verse that
celebrated the romance, chivalry, and heroism of his native land.
* * * * *
Sir Walter was a strange combination of simplicity and strength. His
personal appearance was strikingly odd. Once seen, he could never
be forgotten. "Although forty-eight years have passed since I met
him," wrote an acquaintance, "his personality is as present to me now
as it was then in the flesh. His light blue waggish eye, sheltered,
almost screened, by overhanging straw-colored bushy brows, his scanty,
sandy-colored hair, the length of his upper lip, his towering forehead,
his abrupt movements, and the mingled humor, urbanity and benevolence
of his smile." His usual costume consisted of a green cutaway coat,
with short skirts and brass buttons; drab trousers, vest and gaiters;
a single seal and watch-key attached to a watered black ribbon dangling
from his fob; a loose, soft linen collar; a black silk neckerchief; and
a low-crowned, deep-brimmed hat.
[Illustration: W. D. Moffat, EDITOR]